He called the mill
first, and got the night superintendent. Then he called a number
Anna supposed was the police station, and at the same time he was
ringing the garage-signal steadily for his car. By the time he
had explained the situation to the police, his car was rolling
under the porte-cochere beside the house. He was starting out,
forgetful of the girl, when she caught him by the arm.
"You mustn't go!" she cried. "You'll be killed, too. It will all
go, all of it. You can't be spared, Mr. Spencer. You can build
another mill, but - "
He shook her off, gently.
"Of course I'm going," he said. "We'll get it in time. Don't you
worry. You sit down here and rest, and when it's all straightened
out I'll come back. I suppose you can't go home, after this?"
"No," she said, dully.
He ran out, hatless, and a moment later she heard the car rush out
into the night.
Five minutes passed. Ten. Anna Klein stood, staring ahead of her.
When nothing happened she moved around and sat down in the chair.
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